


Corporate Takeover

by oceaxe



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Corporate AU, M/M, Power Imbalance, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 09:38:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10273934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceaxe/pseuds/oceaxe
Summary: Prompt: Eames doesn't usually have a thing for the interns, but Arthur is just begging to be fucked on the conference room table. Literally.Written for the Anywhere But The Bed Fest on LJ - thanks to Birdsofshore, Capitu and LQ_traintracks for moderating!





	

With a snort of disgust, Eames threw down the file that he’d been reviewing and swiveled his chair away from the desk to look through the glass wall of his office. It was late and Nash had almost certainly buggered off, the shiftless wanker. Fuck. This research was for shit, there was no way he would be able to pull off the merger without better intel. A flicker of movement in the conference room caught his eye—oh lovely, the intern was still here. 

The intern. Young thing, slender and jejune but polished, professional—he rang all of Eames’ bells and set off all of Eames’ alarms. Workplace policy notwithstanding, Eames had his own policy about fraternizing with people lower on the ladder. It just wasn’t the done thing where he came from. No matter how tempting the prospect of that arse. 

That arse, which had stopped him dead in his tracks the instant he’d first laid eyes on the new bloke—Arrrthurrr his name was—bent over a stack of quarterly reports in a box on the floor of the copy room. He’d turned as Eames passed and their gazes caught, Arthur’s mouth going slack as Eames winked at him — and then kicked himself moments later. So much for his policy. 

That arse, which had been display any number of times in the intervening weeks, as Arthur leaned over to pick up a dropped pen or squatted to retrieve something from the break room cupboard — always just as Eames came into view. That arse which had showed up in Eames’ fantasies these past few days, and made an appearance in his dream last night. That arse, which had Eames reminding himself that the employee handbook’s strict rules against fraternizing didn’t apply to interns, nor did the state’s laws against sexual harassment.

That arse, as it happened, was on full view as Eames strode towards the otherwise-empty glassed-in conference room. He simply needed access to Arthur’s skills. After all, he’d heard good things about the thoroughness of his research. How fortuitous that he was still here, engaged in … what was he doing, exactly? He was bent over the enormous polished table—was he writing something? 

Eames cracked the door open and heard Arthur murmuring in a low voice, nearly purring in his surprisingly deep voice.

“I just wish you were here. I want you to take me over this huge table, I’m bending over it and I want you to pull down my pants and give it to me,” he was saying. Eames’ eyes went wide, his mouth pursed. 

Fascinating. 

Well. Irresistable, more like.

“I’m here, darling,” he said as he said as he came up behind the unsuspecting intern, grabbing the phone and pocketing it. “No phone sex on company time, I’m afraid.”

He heard Arthur’s sharp intake of breath as the young man straightened and tried to turn around, but he fetched up against the bulk of Eames’ body, pushing him into the edge of the table. 

Eames felt his cock respond to the proximity of the smaller man, the tight curve of that arse brushing against his groin as Eames pressed even closer to him. He leaned in and grazed his nose along the delicate skin behind the intern’s neck, inhaling the light scent of cologne and a specific personal musk that he quite liked. Arthur shuddered and stifled a sigh but made no other response.

“I won’t report your lapse if you play along. I have a use for you,” Eames rumbled in the shell of Arthur’s ear. “I’ve heard good things about your skills, but apparently you feel like you’re off the clock?” He let his hands drift down the front of Arthur’s trousers, just skimming the bulge where a nicely-sized erection pressed against the fabric. Arthur’s breath sped up—Eames could feel his panting through the fine material of his suit jacket.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Eames. It won’t happen again.” He squirmed against Eames, seemingly thinking about escape. But that wasn’t in the cards, oh no. 

“It hasn’t even happened the first time,” Eames whispered in his ear. “Would you like it to?”

“Wh—what?” Arthur choked out, turning his head slightly. 

“You sounded quite desperate for something, love. Something I’d be happy to provide.”

“But you’re—you’re my boss….” Arthur said on a shaky breath.

“Technically no, you’re merely an intern and thank god for that,” Eames passed his hand over the straining length in Arthur’s pants and he bucked into the touch. “Do you want this? I can promise no one will hear of it, and you might even get a good reference out of it.”

In lieu of an answer, Arthur moaned and reached around to drag his right hand up the back of Eames’ leg, dragging him even closer against that incredible arse. Eames’ eyes closed and he rutted against it, leaning in to lick a stripe up the side of Arthur’s neck. The full-body shiver that this elicited broke Eames' remaining reserve—he got ahold of Arthur’s belt buckle and flicked it open, dealing quickly with his trouser placket and reaching in to fondle the tip of the slick cockhead poking out of the waistband of his pants. He punctuated this manhandling with a thrust of his hips, making his intentions unmistakable. 

Arthur pushed into the touch wantonly, which ratcheted up the lust surging in Eames’ groin. He shoved the clothes out of the way and stepped back to admire the arse that had quite literally been haunting him.

Two perfect half moons of tender flesh peeked out from under Arthur’s shirt tails, hairless and without blemish, the stuff of dreams. He hummed his approval as he reached out to trail his fingertips across the soft skin, then grabbed each cheek with both hands, parting them. Which revealed a sight so surprising it shocked the breath out of him. Arthur was wearing a plug. 

Eames fell to his knees without further thought, focused on the red circle of the plug’s base, the shiny lube around the perimeter, the taut pinkish brown ring of stretched muscle. Holding Arthur spread wide, he drank in the soft noises of anticipation the young man was making and leaned in, hearing the gasps turn to loud moans as his tongue traced the periphery of the latex base. 

He grinned to himself—god damn was he glad he’d walked in the conference room when he had. “Getting ready for your boyfriend?” he murmured between Arthur’s cheeks. “Too bad for him I got here first, I’m going to ruin all his fun.”

“Ruin me,” Arthur mumbled in partial echo of Eames’ taunt. He sounded drugged with desire, music to Eames’ ears. Eames toggled the plug with one hand while his other reached for Arthur’s stiff prick, bobbing against the edge of the table. It was wet, honest-to-god wet with precome, which sent a bolt of sheer need to Eames’ already desperate erection.

He gave Arthur’s cock a firm few strokes and then turned his entire attention to the arse in front of his face. The plug was tightly wedged; it couldn’t have been in for longer than half an hour. Eames took ahold of the base and pulled it out a bit, pushing it back in with a little force, relishing how Arthur reared back to meet the intrusion. What a perfect little slut. He reamed him with the plug for awhile, then leaned in to take the base in his mouth and pull it out with agonizing slowness. Arthur keened the whole time, hips straining backwards in a futile attempt to get the plug back inside.

The plug came out with a pop and gush of lube, creating the most arousing sight Eames had seen in some time. He wasted no time introducing a questing finger, then two — the hole easily accommodating him. Finding the prostate was no trouble in this position, and he slid his fingers to either side of it, teasing and torturing it, holding onto Arthur’s bucking hips with the other hand. 

“Easy, love, I need to get you ready. You’re going to take me and you’re going to love it. Your boyfriend will just have get sloppy seconds.”

Arthur whined and gyrated on Eames’ fingers, which slid remorselessly in and out of his wet little hole until Eames couldn’t take it anymore. He stood up and dropped trou, wiping the lube from his fingers on his cock, then remembering the packets he’d taken to carrying with him and fishing them out. He tore them open and rolled the condom on, then dribbled the contents of the lube packet on his eager cock with one hand, holding Arthur’s arse open with his thumb. 

He was so hard — the foreskin was entirely retracted and the head was throbbing red. Eames delighted in rubbing the glans over a prepared hole, teasing the fortunate recipient of his favors with a preview of what awaited, but this time he couldn’t bear to wait any longer. He breached Arthur with one thrust, getting the head in all at once, and they both shuddered out rough moans — too much, too intense. Just right.

“Yes, give it to me, I need it,” Arthur said in a tight voice, panting. Eames knew that sound—Arthur was struggling to accommodate Eames’ girth. He paused, wanting to make this good for the young man beneath him, but the young man had other ideas. He forced his hips back onto Eames, taking in half the length in one thrust, bellowing a primal sound that echoed in the large room. Eames’ eyes slid closed on the sight of his cock getting swallowed by that tight ring. He wanted to come, he wanted to last, he wanted to do this a million times. 

But Arthur was relentless, taking him in in little jabbing thrusts that caused Eames to bottom out in him within seconds. He took a deep breath, hearing the heaving breaths as Arthur finally held still. 

“Alright, love?” Eames asked, gritting his teeth against the urge to take him, hard and fast. Arthur nodded, head bowed and almost touching the mirrored surface of the table. Eames could see wetness there, moisture from Arthur’s breath or possibly saliva. Before he could say anything else, Arthur had lifted his torso off the table, bracing himself on his stiff arms and shoving down hard on the intrusion of Eames’ cock. 

Eames grunted and staggered slightly, then leaned forward to brace himself against the table with one hand and surged into Arthur, taking him at his wordless invitation. This kid was up for it, no question. He’d never had his control of a situation challenged like that, and while he rather liked it, he needed to show the little upstart who was boss. So to speak.

He hammered into that tight, gorgeous ass, looking down to see the cheeks shaking under the onslaught. Eames loved to see the effect he had on someone, to see how they shook and trembled under him. He withdrew almost completely and slammed back in, with equal or greater force, and Arthur’s hands slid out from under him, causing Eames to have to grab him around the chest to prevent him from hitting his face on the table. 

Once he had his hands on him, they didn’t want to leave, so he hauled Arthur up against him, unconcerned that the angle no longer allowed for the deep thrusts he’d been delivering. Arthur’s head lolled back on Eames’ shoulder; his fight was out of him, he had given in and he was delicious in his pliancy. They rutted against each other for long minutes, Eames raising purple marks along the line of Arthur’s smooth neck, Arthur panting and mewling like a helpless animal in Eames’ arms. Hot spikes of pleasure raced up and down his spine, pooling in his balls and groin; his thighs were starting to tremble and he knew the hour was near.

Arthur took one of Eames’ hands and tried to get him to take his cock in hand, but Eames resisted.

“I think you can come like this, pet,” he growled in Arthur’s ear. Arthur whined but relented, undulating on Eames’ cock desperately. “Oh love, yes, just like that, you want it, you want it so badly,” he crooned, feeling his orgasm swamp his senses, buzzing hot white light encroaching on all sides. 

With almost no warning, Arthur howled and his untouched prick coated the table with come. His tight channel spasmed rhythmically, bringing Eames to the brink and pushing him over until he was pumping Arthur full of his come, delirious with satisfaction.

Eames tried not to slump over Arthur’s limp body, but it was no use. He felt boneless, spineless, useless in the wake of that incredible climax. Fuck, but he didn’t want this to be the one-off that it absolutely must be. The kid was unbelievably responsive, just gagging for cock. 

After a few moments, Arthur stirred and Eames levered off of him. They put themselves to rights silently, quickly, singlemindedly. Eames paused as he buckled his belt, not knowing exactly how to frame this encounter. It suddenly felt precarious indeed, and very important to set expectations for future interactions. Professional. Distant. But Arthur beat him to the punch.

“I don’t need your good reference, Mr. Eames,” Arthur smirked at him, superior and infuriating in light of what had just transpired between them. Eames felt himself bristle. “But I wouldn’t say no to your phone number.”

A smile worked its way across Eames’ lips as he took Arthur’s phone from his pocket and entered his own number in it. On a whim, before handing it back over, he checked the call log and was somehow unsurprised to find no incoming or outgoing calls for that entire day.

“So, no boyfriend, then?” Eames said, showing Arthur the phone. 

“Nope,” Arthur grinned, and Lord have mercy, those dimples should come with a warning and a defibrillator. “The plug was all for you.”

“You had this planned.” It was suddenly clear to Eames that no one could possibly have a need to bend over quite as often as Arthur had done in his presence. He felt a small glow of satisfaction at the confirmation that Arthur had deliberately tried to catch his eye. Along with a vague sense of unease at the way he’d evidently been played. He pushed that aside. 

“I have even more planned, Mr. Eames.” Arthur’s confidence was starting to unnerve him. He needed to get the upper hand again.

“You know, you can have my phone number and my references as well,” Eames said. “It’s never too soon to be thinking about the future.”

“Oh, but I won’t need them. I’m planning on staying here for a long time.”

Eames came closer to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind Arthur’s adorably prominent ear. “Your internship will likely be over come September, love,” he said, feeling a slight wistfulness come over him.

“Didn’t I tell you? They offered me a position last week. I’m not an intern anymore.”

The full weight of the implication behind that statement slammed into Eames all at once. He felt momentarily faint.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Eames,” Arthur said with a smug smile, one dimple peeking out, incongruous with his tone and intent. “I’m sure you can find a way to make sure I don’t report what happened here today with a senior partner and the firm’s newest employee.”

Eames swallowed and his prick twitched in anticipation. 

“Does it involve a… continuation of such occurrences?” Eames suggested, leveling what he hoped was a smouldering gaze at Arthur while reaching for his waist to reel him in.

Arthur went pliant against Eames, tilting his head back and giving Eames a hooded, assessing look. “You’ll just have to keep making it worth my while. I require a lot of supervision. And positive feedback.”

And with that, Arthur winked at him and strode out the door, the lines of his suit so impeccably pristine that no one would have guessed he’d just gotten reamed within an inch of his life. 

Eames watched him go and sighed, feeling out of his depth for the first time in ages. Maybe he could convince management to station Arthur directly under him. After all, that’s where he was going to be spending most of his time.


End file.
